


Gora'amon

by ElZacharie



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Dirty Talk, Enthusiastic Consent, F/M, Fuck Or Die, Mating Bond, Mating Rituals, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:14:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27832093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElZacharie/pseuds/ElZacharie
Summary: After an attack leaves Jaina in the infirmary, Thrall struggles with the question placed before him: dishonor her to allow her to live, or keep her honor intact and kill her inadvertently.
Relationships: Jaina Proudmoore/Thrall
Comments: 3
Kudos: 26





	Gora'amon

**Author's Note:**

> whats up i made a new thraina server on discord. my tumblr is at the bottom, just ask if u want in
> 
> jaina was supposed to be fat in this fic but i never got around to describing her

“Warchief! You’re needed in the infirmary!” a messenger cried, bursting into the meeting room as though he’d been running for a mile. “It’s Lady Proudmoore! She was attacked!”

Thrall stood up immediately, not bothering to dismiss the council as he barreled past the messenger and ran towards the infirmary, anxiety filling his gut. To attack the mage, his ally, his _friend_ , was something that would not go unpunished— all of Orgrimmar knew that. Besides the obvious fact that he and Jaina were close, the humans of Theramore might take the attack on a personal and political level, and demand retribution. If she died—

 _No_ , he couldn’t let his mind wander that road. He had no idea the extent of the damage— for all he knew, it could’ve simply been an accident, and the messenger just hyped things up. Still, that didn’t stop the feeling in his stomach from getting worse when he heard Jaina’s calling his name, begging for him. The healers were rushing in and out of the hut that currently held the infirmary, not even giving Thrall the slightest look as they hurried about.

When he pulled away the flap of skin that separated the infirmary from the outside world, the first thing that hit him was the smell. It was an intense smell, the smell of saltwater, sex, and flowers mixing altogether in a strangely arousing bouquet.

_Like an orcess in heat, but different._

The thought came unbidden, followed by images of Jaina’s curves and ample breasts— which he quickly pushed away at the sound of another scream, forcing himself to not focus on how uncomfortable his trousers were becoming.

“Warchief, thank the spirits,” a troll shaman— Kirana, if he remembered correctly— said, pulling him further into the infirmary, out of the way of the other healers as they ran about and closer to the smell of the orcess in heat. “Lady Proudmoore is in a bad state.”

“What’s happened, healer? I was told J— that Lady Proudmoore was attacked. Is that true?”

The troll worried her lip. “In a sense, yes… It’s… difficult to explain. Some sort of night elf poison. She was found at the gates, dehydrated and delirious, calling out for you in a state of… undress.”

A snarl attempted to work its way out of his throat at the thought of others seeing her like that, but he forced it back down and asked, “Do you know what type of poison it was? Do you think it could’ve been some sort of assassin?”

“If it was an assassin, they picked a strange method to kill her, especially using a poison to cause gora’amon in a human— it’s not one we see often in the field against orcs, much less trolls. We do not know of any cure… except the one, which I think would humiliate the lady.”

 _Gora’amon._ He’d heard the Orcish word whispered before, but he’d never gotten a straight answer out of anyone other than its literal translation, _honorable family._ What it had to do in this situation, he wasn’t sure, but he was certainly starting to put two and two slowly together. “If it saves her life, then we shall do it. She can yell at me later.”

Jaina, as though she knew she were being discussed, let out a wordless scream. It sent a shiver down his spine and through his cock, which was standing completely at attention already, thanks to the smell all around him.

“I… take it you do not know what gora’amon means exactly, Warchief,” Kirana stated with a frown, glancing down at his crotch. He shifted uncomfortably, trying to hide the wet spot that was steadily growing at the front.

“I’ll admit, I don’t. Orcish is not my first language.”

“It means that you must fuck Lady Proudmoore through her heat, and become her mate, her husband, by doing so in the eyes of traditional orcish law.”

That.

That was not what he’d expected.

A blush crept over his cheeks and up his ears, his mind invaded further by the thought of taking Jaina so viscerally— and being rejected by her after she regained her right mind.

“If you do not, warchief, I fear… I fear she may succumb to the heat and be burned from the inside. She will die, if you do not do this. We will not dishonor her further by forcing you, or anyone else, upon her, especially seeing as she has been requesting you, specifically, since she’s arrived.”

Thrall worried his lip, weighing his options. Does he simply allow his closest friend to die at his own negligence, thereby bringing about another war to his people if word got out, or dishonor her, allowing himself to lose her in a way that may be worse than death?

With a sigh, Thrall made his decision and squared his shoulders. “Is it possible to have her brought to my quarters? I would rather not have the entirety of Azeroth hear what we… what I’m about to do.”

Kirana nodded and turned to yell orders at the other healers to prep her for moving. Jaina’s constant yelling seemed to have died down by now, though he could still hear her rasping voice calling out desperately for him.

 _This was for her own good_ , he reminded himself as he made his way to his quarters, preparing himself for what was to come. 

When Jaina was hauled into his quarters on a stretcher, Thrall couldn’t help but stare in awe at her. She was completely nude, body covered in a thin layer of sweat and enveloped by the strange smell, her greasy hair framing her head on the pillow like a radiant halo. Her eyes were glassy, staring up at the ceiling blankly, though, when she sniffed the air, she turned her head towards Thrall, looking down at his crotch and licking her chapped lips.

If his cock had flagged at all, it was certainly at attention now.

The healers carefully lifted Jaina onto the bed, laying her limp body across the bed like she was porcelain. They propped her up and placed a water jug to her lips, from which she drank greedily, then a second, her eyes never leaving Thrall. Once finished, they laid her back down and left one last jug at her bedside before leaving Thrall to her heavy breathing and the smell invading his nose.

“Thrall,” Jaina croaked.

He stood a little taller.

“Why don’t you come here and fuck me, like you’re supposed to?”

“I don’t want to dishonor you, Jaina,” he murmured, finally breaking his lustful gaze from her.

She let out a soft laugh, her legs spreading a little wider— the smell in the room intensified, and it was then that Thrall realized it was coming from her— as she began to touch her clit. “After we met… I couldn’t stop touching myself to you, Thrall. Just thinking about you filling me with your fat cock… taking me so gently, like I know you would… holding back, no matter how much I begged you to ruin me…”

Jaina began to moan, lost in her own fantasy. “Tides, when I came, though… then you would fuck me properly, unable to keep yourself back any longer. You’d constantly check in on me, but I would beg you to just go faster, faster!” The hand on her clit began to speed up, her moans becoming even louder. “And you would! You’d fuck me until I couldn’t think of anything but your cock— fuck, fuck, fuck— Thrall!”

Thrall watched, enraptured, as Jaina arched her back off the bed, showing her cunt in all its full glory as it contracted around nothing, spilling wetness all over her inner thighs. She flopped onto the bed with a whimper, hand falling to the wayside— surprisingly enough, she looked ready to cry. “Why am I still so _horny,_ Thrall? I’ve cum so many times.”

The warchief quickly rushed to her side, pressing the water jug up to her lips. After she had her fill, he set it aside and sat next to her. He could feel the heat of her skin and longed to touch it, but held back. “You’re… you’re in heat, as I’ve been told. During your attack, there was a poison—”

“I wasn’t attacked,” she cut in, brow furrowed. “I was picking flowers for Kinndy. That’s when… this started.” She gestured down to her crotch.

“Ah.” Thrall wasn’t sure what to say to that. “Well, I… um. The healers found a poison in your body that, when used, causes the victim to go into heat. If… if you don’t have sex, you’ll die.”

Jaina let out a hollow, sarcastic laugh. “Of course I will. Because when are the gods ever kind.”

“There’s, ah, more. If we have sex— we will be bound to each other in the eyes of traditional orcish law— which many of the clans still follow. We will be mates— husband and wife— in their eyes.”

The silence that fell between them made Thrall want to squirm. Jaina watched him with half-lidded eyes, lips half parted as though she were about to speak, but unable to find the words. Her hand was still between her legs, gently playing with herself even now. He forced himself to stare down at his hands, which trembled in his lap.

After a full minute, she finally looked away, the blush on her cheeks deepening. “I wouldn’t mind that.”

Thrall’s head snapped to her so fast he swore he pulled a muscle, but the pain was nothing compared to the straining of his cock, or the beating of his heart. He turned a bit more towards her, mouth agape. “You… you’re sure? You… want to be with me? An orc?”

Jaina bit her lip, still not looking him in the eye. “I do. You’re not just an orc to me. You’re my friend. You’re _more_ than a friend, to me. I… I’ve always loved you, Thrall.”

That brought tears to his eyes. “Go’el,” he whispered.

“Huh?” She finally turned to him, brow furrowed.

“Go’el. That’s my birth name. I recently learned of it. If… if we really are going to become mates, I want to hear you say my name.”

Jaina smiled, placing her free hand on his arm. “I love you, Go’el. Now please fuck me before I die.”

Thrall nodded, quickly tearing off the clothing he wore and climbing onto the bed, crawling on top of her. Jaina trembled with excitement, wrapping her arms and legs around Thrall and pulling him in close. She was absolutely burning, reminding him of the seriousness of the situation. “I trust you’re open enough to at least take me?” he asked, gesturing down to his length.

Once again, Jaina licked her lips at the sight. “I think I can take you, big man.”

Chuckling, Thrall wrapped a hand around her back, holding her up as his other hand lined his cock up to her entrance, holding it in place as he pushed the head in. He stopped as soon as she let out a loud groan, temporarily held back by the thought of hurting her, as well as the sheer amount of heat she was radiating.

“M- move…” she grunted, wriggling underneath him, trying to get more friction.

“If you don’t give me a second, I’m going to cum before we get to do anything.”

“I don’t care about that! I just need you to cum inside me!”

“I do,” he snarled, grabbing her by the cheeks and forcing her to look at him. He wasn’t sure what came over him in that moment, but it made her even wetter, so he continued. “If you are going to become my _wife—_ ” He gave a hard, short thrust for emphasis, making her gasp. “— then I’m not going to waste our first time. I’m going to give you everything you ever dreamed of.”

“Tides,” she whimpered. “I didn’t think it’d be so arousing to hear you boss me around, much less call me your wife.”

“You are a strange woman, Jaina Proudmoore. Thank the spirits I’m yours,” he murmured, releasing her cheeks.

He gave her no time to quip back, pushing into her until he was completely sheathed inside her heat. Jaina’s eyes rolled back into her head and her mouth fell open in a silent scream— he must’ve been doing something right, then. His free hand snaked between them and found the stiff nub of her clit, pulling and stroking in time with his short thrusts.

Jaina cursed the Tides as her body bounced with each thrust, in turn driving him to pound into her harder, faster, just to make her sweet voice sing. Soon enough, she tumbled over the edge, crying out his real name. A few hard, deep thrusts, he spilled inside her, biting her neck in an attempt to ground himself. Beneath him, he could feel her belly swell with the amount of cum he was pouring into her, and part of him marveled at the fact that she could contain it all within her smaller frame. The other part swelled with pride, however; of course his mate could handle it— she could handle anything he’d throw at her, no matter what.

The sorceress unwrapped her limbs and fell limp on the bed, the heat slowly evening out. Her eyes were a bit glassy and unfocused, but the loopy smile on her face told him she was okay. Gently, he pulled out, wincing at the cum that spilled out— he was suddenly struck with the idea to push it back in, as well as use his cock to make sure she was properly filled and impregnated, but he shook it out of his head. “Are you okay, my— my love?”

Her smile widened as she stroked the side of his face. “Never better. I should go traipsing around in those flowers more often.”

**Author's Note:**

> fatjainaproudmoore.tumblr.com


End file.
